And Then There Were Three
by Sylvie Orp
Summary: Bodie's injury has unexpected consequences
1. Chapter 1

Doyle had been at Bodie's bedside for two days and two nights now. He got in the odd hour or so of rest in a nearby relatives' room, but he was exhausted. They'd got into some hand-to-hand stuff with a gang. They'd been outnumbered, but had fought on bravely. Doyle had glanced Bodie's way and saw a man heave a lump of concrete at the back of Bodie's head. Doyle had yelled a warning but had been too late, and had received a nasty knee in the groin for his inattention. Fortunately, colleagues had turned up and the battle became more evenly matched. After a further ten minutes or so, the gang had been brought under control and Doyle had radioed in for an ambulance. He'd noticed blood seeping ominously from Bodie's left ear and his hair saturated in blood.

It had been over an hour of tense waiting at the hospital before Doyle had been called in and given the news that Bodie had a fractured skull and there was much swelling on the brain. He'd relayed the information to Cowley but was summoned by the medics almost as soon as he'd put the phone down. Bodie had begun bleeding from the brain and had been whisked off to the operating theatre. The practical side of Doyle had him back on the phone to Cowley.

"They may need a decision from you, sir, as next of kin," he advised grimly.

"Let me know if they do. Two things you need to know, lad. Bodie had advised me that, if things went badly for him at any time, he'd not want to be resuscitated. And, secondly, he'd want his organs donated to those in most need."

Doyle closed his eyes, not wanting to hear those words but knowing that he needed the information Cowley had just given him. He murmured an acknowledgement and went back to pacing the corridors. It was nearly an hour before the consultant found him and said that the bleeding had been stopped and they were monitoring. He again advised Doyle that the situation was serious and that there could be brain damage. Doyle passed on Cowley's message. The doctor made notes on the file and wandered off to attend another medical crisis. Doyle returned to bedside duty.

Later next day Collins came in to relieve Doyle. He was reluctant to leave, but Collins said that Cowley wanted to see him. He'd keep Doyle informed if there was any change. Doyle grudgingly left. Back at HQ Doyle took a weary seat across the desk from his boss and told him that Bodie was holding his own after his operation. Cowley just nodded distractedly, his face giving nothing away.

"Your job is out there, laddie," he said after a moment's pause for reflection, "not at a hospital." He raised his hand for silence, seeing him tense. "It'll be some time before Bodie comes to, and" he hurried on, not wanting to dwell on the 'if ever', "I've got a job for you."

Cowley knew that his agent was exhausted, physically and emotionally, but he was short-handed and work was piling up. And so, as the days dragged on, Doyle divided his time between assignments, bedside vigil, and a few hours sleep here and there. Bodie underwent a second operation several days later when the bleeding began again and he was transferred back to Intensive Care. Cowley, trying not to look worried, allowed Doyle extra hours at the bedside while Bodie - hopefully - tried to overcome this next crisis. Doyle looked over his mate anxiously, then braced himself to speak to the consultant. The doctor was pleased that his patient had survived the operation, but was concerned that no progress seemed to have been made prior to the crisis. Bodie's strength, physical and mental, seemed to be keeping him going. Depressed, Doyle returned the side ward where the medical equipment was beeping and bleeping. He was surprised to see a middle-aged couple hovering at the foot of the bed. They turned their eyes to him and Doyle could immediately see the family resemblance. The woman was naturally upset, but the man seemed annoyed more than anything. Doyle tried a tentative smile and held out his hand in welcome. Introductions over, the couple - or, rather the woman - drilled Doyle for information. There was little he could tell them that the doctor hadn't already explained. Doyle said that he'd leave them to some privacy when Mr Bodie senior said unexpectedly, "It's all right, I'm leaving anyway."

"But you've only just arrived, Bill," Mrs B- complained.

She received a thunderous look. "Not much point in staying is there? He can't see us. He can't talk to us. The bugger never could," he added meaningfully, and stormed out.

There was an embarrassed silence. "Anger is a way of dealing with fear," Doyle heard himself saying. He knew now that Bodie had inherited that trait from his father. More practically, he asked, "Where are you staying?"

The woman looked rather lost so Doyle offered, "I'll show you the relatives' room. It's not being used at the moment. Have you had anything to eat?"

"I just want to stay."

"I know, but Bodie'll be here when we get back."

Doyle hadn't eaten himself for some time. His eating patterns were as random as his sleeping patterns. He guided Mrs Bodie to the canteen and sat her down with a steaming plate of pie and vegetables. He tucked into the same. She said that he could call her Elsie and they talked of this and that, both avoiding Bodie's name and the reason for their being here.

And so that had been the beginning of a nightmare that stretched into weeks. Doyle getting on with his assignments for the day, a few hours sleep where he could, then hospital duty. He fitted in eating here and there. He and Elsie took shifts. After two weeks, and Doyle's colleagues no longer asking for progress reports - there was nothing to report - Elsie greeted him with a tentative smile as they changed shifts.

"He opened his eyes, luv," she gushed. "He saw me, I know he did."

Doyle couldn't bear to crush her one grain of optimism, but her son opening his eyes wasn't the same as seeing or understanding. He smiled weakly at her and saw that that was enough to bring her castle in the air falling to the ground with a thud.

"When was this?" he asked, feeling a need to say something.

"About ten minutes ago. You should have seen 'im." Her Irish brogue melted into Scouse.

Doyle went over to the bed and looked at his mate more closely. He didn't expect miracles - he was well past that point.

"Hey, sunshine, are you going to wake up, or just lie there? Your mum's come to see you."

Bodie sighed as though not wanting to be disturbed. Doyle shrugged apologetically at Elsie.

"Well, it's some kind of reaction I suppose. I'll take over now."

This time, though, Elsie wanted to cling to the bedside in case she missed another outbreak of consciousness, but Doyle persuaded her to get something to eat at least. After some time, and Bodie not twitching any more, Elsie came back. She looked as though she had something on her mind. Doyle wasn't sure he wanted to know what it was. He looked at her encouragingly though.

"The relatives' room's booked up. I suppose they've got more right to it, unless you class me as a squatter."

She was trying to make light of it and Doyle felt stupid that he hadn't thought of this possibility before now.

"Don't worry," he said getting up, "I'll fix something."

He reluctantly left and drove to a b&b he knew. It wasn't close to the hospital, but he knew the landlady. He negotiated a good deal for Elsie and received instruction about the local buses to and from the hospital. He arrived back at Bodie's bedside and relayed the information, writing down the address and phone number for her. She thanked him and added that Bodie hadn't moved again. They both gazed at their patient. Then Bodie began to open his eyes. It looked a struggle and his visitors tried not to push him. Bodie's breathing became laboured as though the effort was more than he could bear. Elsie was holding his hand tightly and Doyle hovered at her shoulder. At last his eyes opened. It took a while for him to focus in the semi-darkness. Doyle soaked some loo paper from the en suite bathroom and trickled the water into his friend's mouth. It seemed to refresh him and his eyes looked more focused.

"Mum?" he asked, bewildered.

"Yes, Will, it's Mum."

Doyle began to walk backwards slowly out of the room, not wanting to break this intimate family moment.

"Doyle, where' you going?"

Doyle stopped in his tracks and returned to the bed. "Thought you'd want a few moments with your Mum."

Elsie took Doyle's hand to detain him. "He's been here most of the time, luv," she said to her son. But Bodie had gone back to sleep.

"I'll find a doctor," Doyle said and smiled encouragingly at Elsie, squeezing her hand.

After informing the nursing station that their wayward patient had at last made a tentative step into the world of the living, Doyle headed for a public phone. His voice broke as he relayed the news to Cowley at home. It was nearing midnight and the Cow was just climbing into bed when the call came through.

"I don't want to pour water on your parade, laddie," Cowley began, though his heart was leaping in celebration.

"I know," Doyle interrupted. "We still don't know if he's damaged or how bad, but it's something for the doctors to work on now, isn't it? And he did recognise me and his mother."

"Aye," Cowley conceded. "Now, are you finally going to get some sleep?!"

"In a bit, sir. Sorry to have disturbed …"

"With that news, you can disturb me anytime. 8 o'clock tomorrow morning I've some work for you."

"Yes, sir. Good night."

Doyle put the phone down and realised that his legs were shaking. The tremor rose through his body and he laid his forehead on the telephone and wept. Once he'd got his emotions under control, he headed for the Intensive Care ward again, but bumped into a woman who was evidently waiting to use the phone. It was clear that she, too, had been crying.

"Good tears or bad tears?" she asked shyly and tentatively.

"Good tears," Doyle confirmed, smiling uncertainly. "My mate's just woken from a coma, but we still don't know how he is. And yours?"

Doyle wasn't sure if that made sense, but the woman nodded and confirmed that hers were good tears too. "My little girl's been transferred from Intensive Care to High Dependency. At this rate, they say that she should be on the children's ward in a few days. Good tears," she concluded again, and then broke down.

Doyle gathered her in his arms. "I think I'll join you," he murmured into her hair and allowed himself to cry on her shoulder.

They eventually pulled away and she made for the phone as Doyle headed for Bodie's bed after stopping off for a cold wash. Doyle was too keyed up to leave his mate and he shared the vigil with Elsie through the night. Bodie made no further signs of joining the world, but somehow his watchers felt that he was with them more now than he had ever been since the injury.


	2. And There Were Three - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Doyle reluctantly turned up for work, having stopped off at home for a shower, change of clothes and a slice of toast. Cowley asked for further news of their patient and Doyle said that there was no change, but Bodie was at least pointing in the right direction now. Cowley didn't dampen Doyle's enthusiasm and he was given surveillance work. Cowley noticed that Doyle didn't kick up a fuss as he usually did at such a job. He was teamed up with Jax who asked half-heartedly of any news. Doyle relayed his story but said that he didn't want it broadcast from the rooftops, as they didn't yet know the consultants' prognosis. Jax, seeing Doyle's exhaustion, volunteered first shift. After four hours, Jax peeped into the bedroom and saw that Doyle was still deeply asleep. Jax didn't object to a further stint at the window. Even then he was reluctant to wake his colleague but Doyle was annoyed that he had been allowed to be lax, but confessed that the sleep had done him good. He took his shift while Jax stretched his legs and got something to eat, bringing back a sandwich and coffee for his mate. They were relieved at midnight and Jax asked if he could go to the hospital on the way home. It wasn't en route, but Doyle didn't object and was interested to see if Jax could detect any improvement in their colleague. So he was introduced to Elsie and they hovered together for a while. Doyle suggested that Jax take Elsie back to her digs and he would look over Bodie for a while yet. Before they left, Bodie rewarded his guests with another look at his irises and a wonky smile.

"I've brought someone to see you," Doyle said quietly but firmly in his mate's ear.

Bodie refocused in the dim light and announced clearly, "Jax." His audience laughed in relief and Jax stayed a while longer before taking Elsie back to her b&b.

"Are you going to say anything more?" Doyle asked once they were alone again.

"Read," Bodie slurred.

"I'm getting a sore throat reading this stuff," Doyle complained, fishing a battered Harold Robbins out of the bedside locker. He didn't think it was the right reading material for Bodie's mum so had kept it hidden at the back. He provided himself with a glass of water and began reading. After a further chapter, he asked Bodie if he were still listening. He got no reply and so he got up. His mind had been wandering time and again to the woman by the phone box. He made his way to the High Dependency Unit aware that he didn't know the woman's name. But then he saw a familiar blonde head a few beds down. The nursing staff had come to know Doyle and didn't stop him wandering about.

"Hello," he started softly, not wanting to startle her.

She looked up and seemed as exhausted as Doyle felt. She smiled up at him and introduced her little girl - Grace aged 7, hit by a bus because she'd run out into the road. She was asleep. Her arm was in a plaster cast and there was an IV feed into her little body but she seemed otherwise unharmed. Doyle gazed at her for a while, seeing the family resemblance, before asking how Grace was getting along.

"She woke up a few hours ago and wanted an ice cream!"

"Would you like an ice cream?" Doyle offered, not knowing how long the woman had sat there.

She got up. "I'd love one, perhaps followed by beef stew."

Doyle smiled. "How about the stew first?"

She nodded as they headed down the corridor to the canteen.

"I'm Ray Doyle, by the way."

The woman introduced herself as Ruth Staples. As they sat down with their meals, Doyle asked when Mr Staples was to come on duty. A cloud passed over her face.

"Dougie died a few years ago."

"I'm sorry …"

"Meningitis. Grace was admitted straightaway once the doctors knew what they were dealing with. It was just a precaution. You may know that meningitis is contagious."

Doyle nodded and she was encouraged to continue. "Grace did get it but, because they were looking out for it, the doctors spotted it right away and she got over it. Dougie didn't."

She hung her head and didn't seem to want to go on any further.

"What was his job?" Doyle felt that he needed to fill the silence.

"He was a copper. Every day I wondered whether he'd come home. Whether there'd be that fateful knock on the door. And then something as small as a microbe got him in the end - Big Dougie." She began crying and Doyle held her hand.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up."

"It's all right. I was doing ok for a while then, when Grace got hurt, and I'm back here again, it - it …"

"It brought it all back?" Doyle finished for her.

She nodded her head.

"Have you got anyone who can help you here?"

She fished in her bag for a tissue and after dabbing her eyes and nose, she told him that her parents were a great support, Dougie's parents being at the other end of the country. Doyle offered to help with vigils, but she said that he'd enough on his plate and she had her parents to help. A silence stretched between them but they both seemed reluctant to leave each other.

"Would you like to see Bodie?" Doyle asked after a while, "He doesn't make much sense when he is awake, so it's probably best that you see him asleep!"

She smiled and they got up. At Bodie's bed, Doyle leaned towards his friend and said clearly in his ear.

"I've brought a lady friend." Bodie stirred. "I thought that'd get some reaction!" he joked to Ruth.

They turned back to the patient and were rewarded with a pair of eyes looking at them.

"Very nice, Ray," he said, to Doyle's embarrassment. He looked shyly at Ruth and she turned away, grinning.

"Have the doctors been in to see you?" Doyle said slowly.

"I'm not deaf, or daft."

"Not sure about either," Doyle countered but could see that Bodie was struggling to keep awake.

"Would you mind staying for a moment, while I see the doctor?" he asked Ruth.

She readily agreed and settled herself at Bodie's side. Doyle made enquiries about his friend's progress at the nursing station. The senior nurse looked at her patient's notes and saw that a Mr Doyle could be informed of any medical news. She said that the consultant had run tests and was cautiously optimistic. He would need to do more assessing as Mr Bodie regained consciousness, but the signs so far were encouraging. Doyle felt tears prickle the backs of his eyes and knew that he wouldn't be able to keep himself together for a phone call to Cowley, late though it was. He would keep this good news to himself until he clocked on at 8. He looked at his watch and saw that it was the early hours. He needed a few hours rest somewhere before going on duty. He tentatively popped his head into the relatives' room and saw a woman sprawled out on the bed and a man snoozing in an armchair. No room at the inn there. He'd have to gird his loins for another all-nighter. He joined Ruth at the bedside and said that he'd take over duty here till he was due on shift. He told Ruth to get some rest.

"And when are you going to sleep?" she countered.

Doyle shrugged. "I'll kip in the Mess for a few hours before signing on."

"Are you a soldier?" He didn't look like one and Ruth had been wondering about his profession.

Doyle smiled. "No. I'm a copper, too."

His declared profession was usually a civil servant, but he felt a kinship to Dougie. Ruth looked delighted and he was glad. Somehow her approval meant something to him. On asking, he found that Dougie's beat had been up north until he'd been promoted to a job in London. It was near Ruth's parents and so it had all worked out - for a while. He'd been finding his feet in west London while Doyle had been easing himself into CI5.

"Now we're introduced, can I get some kip?!" Bodie complained.

"Kip!" Doyle exploded quietly, but Ruth tugged his sleeve. He relented. "All right. We'll leave you for a while, so don't get up to anything, ok?"

Bodie grinned tiredly and went back to sleep. In the corridor, Doyle declared Bodie a menace to the female society. Ruth heard the affection in Doyle's voice and saw the light in his eyes which hadn't been there before. She didn't need to ask if they were close. They held each other's eyes for a while.

"See you," Doyle said reluctantly, and impulsively kissed her on the cheek before turning on his heel.

Ruth watched wistfully as he disappeared round a corner. Somehow she felt that Dougie would approve of Ray Doyle.


	3. And Then There Were Three - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

As Bodie made increasingly bold steps towards the light and the living, Doyle eased up the bedside vigil. He was more confident now that Bodie would be out of bed soon, harassing the female staff. Grace had been transferred, as predicted, to the Children's Ward. She didn't last long there, and was discharged after a week. Doyle realised gradually that his visits to the hospital now were more to do with seeing Ruth rather than keeping Bodie on his toes and his mum company. After Bodie had been transferred to the Men's Ward, Elsie returned to Liverpool and Doyle had promised to keep in touch about her son's progress and life in general. He'd learnt quite a bit about his mate since he'd got to know Elsie. He'd also learnt quite a bit about the Staples' family, too. Ruth had invited him round as a celebration of Grace coming home and Doyle had been rather embarrassed, saying that it was a private, family affair. Ruth had persuaded him and he'd arrived with balloons and a chocolate cake. He was instantly Grace's favourite person! He was relieved that there wasn't a house full of relatives, as he'd feared. Ruth explained that they'd already come and gone, Grace was well rested, and she felt free to invite other friends to see her and her daughter. The house was homely and airy, the garden well kept. There were photos here and there of a beaming, happy Dougie with his wife and/or his daughter. Doyle felt he was treading on Dougie's shadow. The afternoon turned to early evening, and it was only as Grace fell asleep after tea that Doyle realised that he'd outstayed his welcome. But Ruth encouraged him to return his visit soon, and this time Doyle didn't need much persuading.

Doyle and Ruth had been dating now for six months. It was getting serious. Grace stayed over with her little chums every now and then or with her grandparents when Ruth and Ray needed some private, adult time together. He hadn't yet told her that he had moved on from the police force and the lie was weighing increasingly heavy with him. Oddly, it was Bodie who pushed that topic.

"You're serious about her aren't you?" he'd asked one day while they were following a suspect in the car.

The question came out of the blue and took Doyle by surprise. He wondered what had brought Ruth to Bodie's mind. He took a while to answer.

"Yeah. I suppose I am."

"And the kid isn't a problem?"

"They do have names, Bodie," Doyle commented tetchily.

On the odd occasion when Bodie raised the subject, it was always 'them' or 'her'. He wondered whether Bodie was jealous. Bodie remained silent as he took the corner too fast and banged his mate up against the door.

"I may get married," Doyle murmured tentatively. He hadn't yet made up his mind on the subject, but was interested to see Bodie's reaction now that it had been raised.

"Marriage and CI5 don't mix on account of our short life expectancy," Bodie said darkly.

"With all the training Cowley puts us through, we get by don't we?" Doyle countered.

Bodie said nothing.

"Actually," Doyle confessed, "I've been talking to Ralf and to Sue." They were both married officers - not to each other, but to partners outside the service. Again Bodie said nothing.

"They say that, with effort, it can work. Sue's husband's in the military, so he's not exactly in a safe occupation either."

Silence. Doyle wondered what was going round Bodie's head. He let the silence hang. They had their assignment to concentrate on. At the end of the day, Doyle invited Bodie for a drink but he declined. That had Doyle worried more than their conversation in the car. He wouldn't pander to his partner's moods and let him get on with it.

It was nearly three weeks later before Bodie felt in the right frame of mind to socialise with his partner. Doyle had offered an olive branch - if that's what it was - and had been rebuffed. Bodie felt that it was his turn now to offer something, so invited Doyle out for a curry. Doyle took the invitation as casually as he could and realised that he'd have to tread very carefully throughout the evening if he wanted to get back on the right side of his friend; though he couldn't credit that his love life was making his mate brittle. They talked of neutral subjects, or of work, for the main part of the evening. As they finished with coffee and brandy, Bodie brought the subject round.

"Well, have you thought any more about Ruth?" He remembered that pronouns made Doyle irritable, and he wanted to end the evening as peacefully as it had begun.

"Bodie, I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, even less do I know what's in your heart, but - for your information - yes, I have thought about Ruth. I think about her all the time. I love her." He paused to see how this was going down. Bodie's face was a mask. Doyle ploughed on. "I spoke to Cowley and asked permission to tell her what I do for a living."

"Doesn't she know?" Bodie interrupted, surprised. He hadn't remembered most of the conversations around his bed while he'd been in Intensive Care. There were still holes here and there. "She must wonder why you're called away in the middle of the night and look knackered in the morning. Does she think you're a midwife or something?"

That was an interesting idea, Doyle mused! He could understand Bodie's confusion. Bodie had assumed that his partner had rolled out the party line that they were civil servants.

"I told her that I was still in the Force. Her husband was a copper, so I knew she'd understand about emergency call out and that." Bodie nodded. His face still wasn't giving anything away. "Cowley agreed that I could tell her. I asked him if he'd had her checked out. I would have been surprised if he hadn't."

"So would I," Bodie agreed warmly.

This confirmed to Doyle that it hadn't been Bodie doing the checking. He was relieved somehow.

"He said that he had, and that if I wanted to make an honest woman of her I had his blessing. I told him that I - we - weren't sure yet. He said that marriage wasn't something to be gone into lightly, particularly with a child involved."

Bodie nodded again, and again said nothing.

"So I had a heart to heart with Ruth a few days ago. She seemed to understand why I didn't tell her earlier about the job. She didn't seem to be angry, which was a relief. I asked her if she could bear to have another husband on active service, and if she could, would she be my wife?" Doyle again paused. Again, Bodie kept his feelings to himself. "She said that she'd need more time to think about it. I said that if the answer was 'no', could we go on being good friends? She said that was never in doubt. Course we could."

"She didn't ask you to chuck in CI5 and get a safer occupation?" That seemed to be the centre of Bodie's anxiety.

"No. I don't think she'd ever ask me that. If she took me on she knows she'd have to take on CI5 - and that includes you!" Doyle was trying to lighten the situation. The restaurant had suddenly become very stuffy.

"Is she strong enough?"

"I don't know," Doyle replied honestly.

Since they were on this road, Doyle had decided to be as open and honest as he could with his partner. Prevarication wouldn't do here. He hoped that it might alleviate his mate's fears - whatever they may be. A heavy silence hung in the air. Bodie seemed to be wrestling with himself. Doyle waited patiently, but was disturbed to see that the restaurant was beginning to close for the night. Whatever Bodie wanted to say, he'd better make it quick or the moment would pass. He too seemed to have noticed the 'closed' signs being put up.

"So, if you marry her - Ruth - you'd still stay in CI5? And even if she turned you down, you'd still stay?"

Doyle nodded and waited. Bodie seemed to weigh up all that Doyle had said. He got up, reaching for his wallet. "Well, that's all right then," he commented lightly, fishing out some money. A weight seemed to have been lifted from his shoulders.

"Is that what's been bothering you, Bodie?" Doyle asked quietly, counting out his own share of the bill. "I'll still be here, mate. Still at your back and by your side. That won't change."

Bodie looked at him in the half light of the restaurant. Everything seemed very quiet and still. Doyle held his gaze for what seemed an eternity. The big man's eyes began to fill. He just nodded and turned away, tossing the money on the table. They drove back in silence. Doyle pulled up outside his friend's flat. He put his hand on Bodie's arm before he got out of the car.

"I'll see you in the morning, Bodie," he said.

They stared at each other for a heartbeat. Doyle's words held more meaning then than they ever had, and Bodie received the message and was glad. He would sleep well tonight.

3


End file.
